Broken City
by Leonjr
Summary: With a faulty authority system and the lowest of low lives running a muck, this once colorful and cheerful city has been turned into a nightmare. However, there is still a sliver of light that cuts through this great darkness. A hero turned shamed by the government will have to act above the law to save a broken and shattered city.


A/N: This a project that I've been meaning to put out for the longest, so the now that I can, here it is. Hope you enjoy.

The lone street lamp hung flimsily atop the parapet of the closed alleyway. The light that radiated from it was dim and flickered every so often, directly casting stark contrasted to the luminous glow of the florescent sign that lay pasted on the see through bay window of the pub. "Open" the sign read beside the artistically painted name of the homely establishment.

A not so common bar patron swung the wooden door exasperatedly open as she made her way down the flight of three or four steps. She wouldn't know if it was Four or Forty, all she could discern were very blurred lines of sidewalk and groggy stains of musky liquid all too familiar to the sent. The heels of her moderately tall high heeled shoes caught on a hitch in one of the cracks that littered the block of pavement, causing her to stumble over, almost falling on the unsanitized surface. She cursed under her breath, trying to collect herself, removing the aforementioned high heels.

Her bare light pink feet felt nice and chilled at the cold touch of the paved ground. A strong childish urge to just run merrily through the night coated streets beckoned her. She could not act upon such thoughts, for she had indulged to her broken hearts content to "Apple The Kid's" batch of freshly brewed light liquor, and was in no mood to plow head first into a pole that would some how sprout out of thin air, she was in no such mood.

The delight that had taken hold quickly gave into anger, frustration, and a deep rooted sense of betrayal. She could drown out her pain with hard shots of pure "Dry" alcohol for only so' long, before her head can give way to aches and pulses of pure pain, proof that a drinker she was not. Her thoughts, sobering up slightly, wondered back to the bringer of such emotional pain.

"Why?" She asked herself. "Was I not good enough for you?"

The thought of him made her blood boil. After so many years of love and sinful lust, her significant other would just throw it all down the drain for some wench that catered to his sexual advances and erotic needs to which she with all moral decency, could not. Memories of her lost love flooded her mind with unwelcome discontent.

"I hate you" she thought, that was the last thing she told the oafish fool who's apatite she could not sate. He of course was not phased by her dismay and simply shrugged her away.

"Sorry sweat heart, Tamara here was just offering more to the table than you" his smug toned harsh comment stung like fire, it was enough to drive someone mad.

But...

That's how things had gotten around here. She missed it when you could got out with all your friends and just dance your heart out and laugh, and not get slapped with emotional grief every time you let some one in too close and you fool yourself into believing that you're affections can be returned.

A sharp panic seized her heart as she passed a street corner she had not recognized. In her state of self ponderment she did notice she had taken a wrong to a few blocks back, and had ended up in one of the run down, less safe neighborhoods of the city. She looked around, frantically, trying to find any key that would open the door that lead to reassurance. To no avail, every street corner had lofty wooden fences that protected the inner workings of the adjacent residential home. It did not help that all light that was present, were mere porch lights that lit up only there respective placements. Leaving the streets dark and terrifying.

She made her way to the end of the block. Warm reassurance at last. At the end of the intersecting street shone the lights from the more populated areas of the city. Uneasiness fell over as she considered the distance. She was not in a blinding state of intoxication as she was earlier but the street seemed to be quite the ways away. She shuttered and took a few steps into the darkened street where the presence of light was all but existent, still she trudged on.

Unsettlement bled into her mind which up until now had seemed at rest. The piter pater of foot steps had been to loud, to account for only one person, and she was barefoot. She tilted her head slightly, trying to catch something unseen in the dark that only seemed to fade into even heavier blackness. Quickening her pace, she walked briskly. The outer corner was only a few yards away. Warm relief settled in.

However, she failed to notice the alleyway that lay directly perpendicular to the sidewalk she was on. She did not notice the tall lanky darkened figure pass next her, until it was too late.

Callused palms hindered her mouth from opening and letting out a full yell, letting only muffled shrieks and fearful whimpers escape. The glow of street lamps and other lights faded away from view. A strong hold by her neck dragged her inside the alley.

She heard low shushing extremely close to her ear. Grime covered facial hair brushed dangerously close to her neck. A chapped kiss. She kicked and screamed although no effort she made could allow her to gain the upper hand in the situation.

"Be quiet" a male voice rang in her ears, she thrashed and whimpered violently. Only to be shoved and painfully pinned atop a pair of thrash cans. She took deep breaths. Ready to let out a full scream, her voice haltered and stopped. The assailant removed his hand from her mouth but quickly brought it to meet at her neck. A cold sharp metal ran along her cheek, again he hushed.

"Please, please don't hurt me" she whimpered, wincing as the blade slightly cut through her skin due to the pressure.

"Now why would I hurt such a pretty little thing" his breath was atrocious, voice equal, sounding raspy and disgusting with the loads of spit that probably waded up at the back of his throat.

He ran the knife through the length of her jaw line, before placing his rock textured hand on her chin. His thumb stroked her face as if to comfort.

"Please, don't..." she was cut off, chapped lips smashing forcefully and unwanted unto hers soft and tender. A slimy tongue creased its way inside, forcefully it interned.

Out of impulse, she chomped down. A sharp shout, a curse, and a shove fallowed there after. She took advantage of the move. Hastily running away, she had lost track of where the entrance of the alleyway was, running deeper into the hellish abyss. A sudden sense of dread filled her very essence as the sickening realization that she would not be saved from this came over her. She ran into a wall, three corners and closed off. She tried as best she could to climb the gutter pipe, only to be dragged down painfully to the ground. Forceful familiar hands grabbed her by the neck, the blade sat atop where her jugular lay.

"Now you won't be doing that again, unless you want a bruised face and a slit throat" he urged pressing the knife ever so closer. She held back tears of fright, the looming figure above her had her pinned, and she had no other choice but to give in. Her whimpers grew more an more terrified as the straps of her pink dress dropped. Grimy hands feeling her shoulders, running down to her chest. She closed her eyes, looking away, anger boiling inside, fear all together in one.

But to her better surprise and relief it stopped. Quickly looking forward, she noticed the man stand up hastily, he drew the knife aiming it at nothing.

"Who's there! stay back! Unless you wanna get cut up!" He shouted profusely. Only then, she was able to hear the low footsteps that echoed through the silent alleyway.

Getting closer.

A tall figure appeared from the darkness. The aura about the figure seemed, good.

"Back off! Get any closer and I'll stab you! I swear!" He shouted. The figure took no mind to his threats and continued on. Its features becoming more vivid. It was a male, tall, slightly built. He was clad in a dark blue almost black tuxedo, furls folded out from the collar of his under shirt. Duel white gloves on each hand, coupled with a pair of heavy sounding ballroom shoes.

What unnerved her slightly, was his face. He wore a white wolf's mask, ears tall; eyes, darkened holes shrouding the orbs inside from view.

"What the hell! Who are you?" The man questioned in shouts. Pointing the knife at the masked figure. The dainty weapon failed to faze his still demeanor, and it was quickly apparent why.

With a swift motion of the mans hand, he drew a long curved saber. In a single swing, it sliced through the knife, cutting a slither of the blade and sending it clashing to the ground.

The high pitched sound of the blade piece was the only sound that pierced through the new silence.

Although he was a bit threatened, the assailant swung his fist at the mask man. His sloppy attack was met with an obvious trained counter, as he was sent onto the wall. His face crashed with brick ever so harshly as a small amount of blood trickled down his already gruesome face. The thug tried to stand but staggered horrifically while doing so. The masked man, letting the curved saber slide into his side holster, took advantage of the thugs clumsy state and delivered a right hook that would end all hooks. Quickly recovering from the hard swing, he topped off the attack with take down, letting his foot slide under the thug and with his left hand, toppling over the fool.

The trashy looking poor representation of any type of person laid flat on his back, looking up in fear at the masked figure that towered over him.

Gathering what ever sense the thug had left, he decided to make a run for it. Thrashing wildly off of the ground, he slid past the masked man and ran through the alley.

The woman, who earlier had given up on fighting for potentially her life, let out a well deserved exhale of calmed breath. It hitched however, the masked man had made a motion in the direction of the thug but stopped and looked at her. Her pulse quicken as the man moved closer toward her.

She shut her eyes fearfully again as all mater of horrible nightmarish thoughts clustered in her mind only to seize as soon as they started.

She felt warm sown cotton over her cold and exposed shoulders. She let her eyes open, to meet with a pair of darkened ones, hidden behind white porcelain. The masked man had wrapped his suite jacket tightly around her. She gazed in awe at the man as he parted, his block vest and white under shirt fading out of view.

She clutched the fabric of jacket tightly. Crossing her arms, she glossed over it with her fingers, letting it's soft texture keep her warm.

For once in this night of fear she has felt at ease. She made her way out of the alley and into the light of the main streets of the candy kingdom. The street was even more crowded than usual, police automobiles ware parked in the corner over. People were being led through the corner in lines as officers spoke to them. One of said officers noticed her and instantly rushed toward her.

"Ma'am are you alright" he motioned toward her, a couple of paramedics also came over to her. She was led to a small tent that sat near the police sat quietly listening to the officers speaking speaking as the doctors tended to her injuries.

"Yes, she appears to be the only other one injured" one of them said.

"You gonna question her?" the other questioned.

She looked up at the officers as they entered the tent. The one that had called her over was short and slightly scrawny. He had neat locks of blonde hair, that fell just a bit over his eyes, his complexion was light blue which matched with his uniform. The other officer was a tall largely built orange man with a militants hat and several silver stars that clad his shirt.

Lt. Connors read his name tag. He stepped up.

"Evening ma'am, I'm sorry to trouble you but we have some questions we'd like for you to answer" he said calmed and mannered, putting his arms around his back as he spoke. "My name is Lieutenant Osman Connors, may I have yours"

"Sarah" she said, her voice was raspy and shaky.

"Beautiful name" he complimented. "Now Sarah, something awful happened just a few moments ago, do you recognize this man?" He took a picture from his front pocket, at first glance it didn't look like much, but unfortunately she recognized the man in the photo. Her breathing quickened and she clutched the suit jacket, still wrapped around her shoulders.

"Yeah, he... he attacked me earlier and..." her lips trembled as she recalled what apparently just happened 'earlier'. Lieutenant Connors spoke.

"Ma'am this this man do anything..."

"No" she cut him off instantly. "No, someone came and the two of them fought and he ran away"

Lieutenant Connors nodded in understatement.

"That's a second suspect Sir" the other officer said.

Second? She thought for a moment. Could he mean...

"Ma'am, what did this other attacker look like? Any key traits? A scar? A tattoo? Anything" he asked.

"He wore a mask" she responded.

"What kind of mask" the other officer cut in, he was writing something down on a notepad.

"A white wolf's mask" the lieutenant and the other officer shared a quick glance. The other scratched off some of what he was writing and put the notepad away.

"Thank you ma'am, sorry to disturb you, I understand that you must of had a rough night" he said tipping his hat. They both began to walk out of the tent. "That'll be all Ms. Sarah"

"Wait!" She shouted. They both turned around instantly. "Are you going to arrest him, the masked man"

The officers shared another glance.

"Yes ma'am, this 'masked man' has been our main suspect in a series of vigel anti type murders in the past month, even if his cause is considered right, murder is still murder. He needs to be stopped" her chest felt heavy, she didn't feel quite right about this, but somehow she understood.

The lieutenant bid his farewells. The other officer offered to give her a ride home. She agreed.

Sitting in the passenger seat of the police car she looked to where the crime had occurred, yellow police tape littered the whole street, as did the glistening blood that lay stained the brick wall.

Sarah slid in the seat of the car, looking for comfort, she clutched the jacket again. She thought of the masked man. She gazed over to the roof tops thinking she might see him, overlooking the distance. Guarding over the people that otherwise wouldn't be helped. Being the one hope for this broken city.

A/N: I may have more chapters coming out for this little experiment. I don't know, you tell me. Thanks for reading.


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